


Coincidence? There's No Such Thing.

by GoDownWithThisShip



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Body Image, Bucky Barnes-centric, Dirty Talk, F/F, I Don't Even Know, Language Kink, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 13:21:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7223941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoDownWithThisShip/pseuds/GoDownWithThisShip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James 'Bucky' Barnes meets a stranger in the backseat of a Ride-Sharing car. What's the chance they'll run into each other again?<br/>Also, how James got the nickname Bucky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coincidence? There's No Such Thing.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Please hover over words for a translation! (Picked that one up from another really nifty fic!) If that doesn't work, there are also translations in the end notes :)
> 
> That being said, I do not speak Russian at all and I literally relied on a translator & some websites to help me out with it. If I've fucked up in any way please, please let me know so I can fix it and save myself some embarrassment. EDIT: Thank you to [Stickinsect](http://archiveofourown.org/users/stickinsect/pseuds/stickinsect) & [freckleKaren](http://archiveofourown.org/users/freckleKaren/pseuds/freckleKaren) for also helping out with this!
> 
> Any similarities to real life's Uber is unintended please do not sue me over this shit I'm just trying to have fun here.
> 
> Enjoy~

James is a couple of drinks past pleasantly buzzed when the dark colored sedan pulls up. He all but rips the back door off its hinges and collapses into the back seat. He's managed to take up the entire back row when he feels someone smacking his leg. "Seriously?" he squints back to find, no fucking surprise, that it's Natasha who's harassing him.

 

"Seriously?" she echoes. But her cheeks are flushed pink and there are strands of stray hair hanging from her updo and it's like they both suddenly realize how trashed they are and end up laughing.

 

James manages to drag himself over to the seat furthest from the open door and Natasha and her girlfriend, Maria, both end up toppling in next to him. Maria buckles up with a neat click and James tries his best to do the same but he can't get the clippy-thing into the buckle-y part and he ultimately gives up. Natasha doesn't even try to fasten her seatbelt. The driver turns around and introduces himself. Dopinder. The backseat is suddenly a slurred chorus of "Hii Dopinder!"

 

He smiles and nods to them. "I'm going to pick up another rider. Do you all mind?"

 

"Go ahead," Maria replies, speaking just a little bit louder than she would in her sober state. "Saves us a couple bucks."

 

So Dopinder pulls away from the curb and drives off into the muggy city night. James zones out for a bit, watching the buildings roll past outside. The car is quiet aside from Nat and Maria's low, slurred voices, occasional giggles, and the quiet hum of whatever song happens to be on the radio. The car stops after what seems like both five seconds and five years. James lets his head rest against the cool car window as he watches the new passenger get in. He's tall with the biggest brown eyes James has ever seen. His dark skin practically radiates under the dull glow of the street lamps and he's wearing the kind of smile that lights up the whole room.

 

"Hey everybody!" he says brightly as he does his seatbelt. "How's it going?"

 

Nat and Maria both chorus a cheerful "Good!" While James manages a quiet, "Alright."

 

Dopinder is cranking the wheel, getting ready to pull away from the curb again when the door James is leaning against opens and he nearly falls out of the car. His hand reaches out to grab the seat in front of him before he can spill out onto the sidewalk. "What the hell?" he mumbles and looks up to find _yet another_ attractive stranger looming over him. He thought Mr. Front-seat was tall but this guy's well over six feet tall and he's built like a goddamn Marine. _Jesus Christ._

 

"Sorry about that!" the guy apologizes quickly before bending down to assess the rest of the car. "Is there room in here for one more?"

 

Dopinder opens his mouth to reply but Natasha's already eyed the new guy up. "Come on in!" she replies brightly before climbing over to seat herself on Maria's lap and throwing James a _look_. He just rolls his eyes at her and moves over to take his new place in the middle seat.

 

"I'm not sure," Dopinder says, glancing around the packed car. "This does not seem exactly…legal."

 

"It's fiine Dopinder!" Maria says, looking up at Nat with that gross smitten look on her face. "We won't tell!"

 

Nat winds both her arms around Maria's shoulders. "If anything this is even _more_ safe. If we get into a crash we'll be like packing peanuts!"

 

"That is not reassuring," Dopinder replies, but he pulls away from the curb anyway and drives off.

 

The stranger in the front seat turns around to face the stranger in the back seat. "What the hell, man? I thought you were leaving with that guy."

 

Backseat stranger shrugs, his arm ends up brushing up against James'. James tries not to notice. "He got a text or something as we were leaving and said he couldn't do anything tonight because he's got a meeting or something tomorrow. Something better probably came up either that or he just didn't like me."

 

The defeated tone of the stranger's voice upsets James and he opens his mouth to say something like _Who the hell wouldn't like you?_ but thankfully the guy's friend speaks first, "He was chatting you up all night! And you're back there saying 'he didn't like me'. Yeah. Alright." The two of them laugh.

 

"Wait! We didn't get _any_ pictures tonight!" Maria cries out suddenly. Her voice is somewhat muffled on account of her face being half-pressed into Natasha's chest.

 

"I can get a picture of you guys if you want," the stranger from the front seat says.

 

"No! No, let's get everyone in it," Natasha says, taking out her phone and carefully tapping the screen until her front-facing camera opens up. She turns her torso so that the entire car is in view. The car slows to a stop at a red light and even Dopinder stretches his way into the picture. Natasha snaps a couple and laughs. "Perfect! I'm Natasha, by the way." She waves at the strangers.

 

"Sam," the stranger in the front seat replies, giving a small wave back.

 

"Steve," the stranger next to James says. He leans forward to smile at her and ends up crossing over into some of James' space. _There's no such thing as space in the back of an over crowded Übur,_ he reminds himself.

 

"Maria!" comes Maria's voice from the other side of the backseat.

 

James doesn't realize that socially, it would now be his turn to introduce himself until he looks around the car to find everyone's eyes on him. "And this is James," Nat fills in for him. Part of him is grateful, the other part isn't because now these gorgeous strangers think he's absolutely incapable of speaking for himself.

 

"Nice to meet you guys," Sam says from the front seat.

 

Every one says some version of "nice to meet you" at once and James makes the mistake of looking over at Steve who then freakin' _smiles_ at him and says in a quiet voice, "Nice to meet you"

 

"Pleasure's all mine." He wants it to sound suave but once the words are out of his mouth they sound sarcastic. He's hoping Steve's too drunk to catch the difference.

 

Then, as if anyone in the car needed any more alcohol in their bodies, Natasha pulls her silver flask from her purse and announces. "Purse vodka! There you are. Who wants some?" She unscrews the top and takes a swig. Maria frees one of her hands to reach for it and Natasha shakes her head. "How many shots did you have tonight, [Любимая](https://translate.google.com/#auto/en/%D0%9B%D1%8E%D0%B1%D0%B8%D0%BC%D0%B0%D1%8F)?" Maria holds up four fingers and grins mischievously. "[хуйня](https://translate.google.com/#auto/en/%D1%85%D1%83%D0%B9%D0%BD%D1%8F)," Natasha laughs. She leans over with the flask in her outstretched hand to offer it to Sam in the front seat. 

 

He shakes his head and smiles. "Nah, I know my limits. Thanks, though."

 

She then leans back and offers Steve. But, she doesn't stretch over James to do it. She holds the flask in front of him and he knows exactly what she's doing. Sure enough, Steve reaches over him, his arm brushing James' chest and accepts the drink. When he settles back into his seat, James looks over to glare at Natasha and finds her smirking at him. "[он милый](https://translate.google.com/#auto/en/%D0%BE%D0%BD%20%D0%BC%D0%B8%D0%BB%D1%8B%D0%B9)."

 

"[Заткнись](https://translate.google.com/#auto/en/%D0%97%D0%B0%D1%82%D0%BA%D0%BD%D0%B8%D1%81%D1%8C)," James mutters.

 

After Steve takes a swig he offers the flask to James who then _has_ to drink because this is too much for him to deal with right now. When he's done he hands the now mostly-empty flask back to Natasha and settles back into his seat for what he knows is going to be the longest ride of his Goddamn life. A few moments later there's a yelp from the front seat and Sam is leaning toward the dash. "Hey man, can I turn this up? I love this song."

 

Dopinder nods and Sam reaches out to turn one of the radio nobs and the car is filled with music that James can't quite focus on right now. Sam immediately starts to sing along and Dopinder clearly knows the song too because he also starts belting out the lyrics. He looks over to see Natasha pressing her forehead to Maria's and running a hand through her dark hair and their expressions are filled with so much adoration that he suddenly feels like he's intruding on their intimate moment. Instinctively, he shifts away from them, accidentally bumping into Steve. He apologizes and Steve shakes his head. "Don't worry about it." His voice is quiet, barely audible above the radio and off-key singing happening in the front seat. "So, how long have you been third wheeling?"

 

James doesn't understand what he means at first but Steve nods to Maria and Nat who are pressed together in their seat. "Christ, that obvious, huh?" James tries his best not to sound bitter. "About a year now."

 

Steve lets out a low whistle and shakes his head. "And here I thought six months was a long time." James frowns at him and he nods to Sam who is still singing in the front seat. "He's my best friend so I spend a lot of time third wheeling him and his honey too. I'd be third wheeling again tonight, but the other wheel has work tomorrow and couldn't come out with us."

 

James groans. "Oh boy. Don't tell me he dragged you out tonight to meet someone."

 

"How did you know?" Steve laughs. James decides right then and there he likes that sound. He likes it a lot.

 

"Because I'm in the same fucking boat, buddy. Nat's always trying to set me up with so-and-so from work or this guy at her gym. She means well but-"

 

"It's weird? They're never your type? When they are your type there's always something off about them?" Steve fills in.

 

James chuckles and shakes his head, sinking back into the unyielding seat. "You have no idea. This one guy had a collection of blow-up dolls, which to each his own, y'know. But, he fucking _named_ them, Steve." He turns his head to look at Steve and he finds himself noticing the way Steve's outrageously blue eyes crinkle at the edges when he laughs and boyy is he _fucked._

 

The car takes a sharp turn and James, who still hasn't managed to master the art of buckling his seat belt, ends up squishing further into Steve's side. He's about to apologize _again_ because Steve's wriggling beside him. But, instead of trying to move further away, Steve merely frees his left arm and drapes it casually along the back of the seat. He angles his body so that his back is resting in the corner where the seat and the door come together. James' brain is practically buzzing and it's hard to formulate a smooth move when your thoughts won't slow the fuck down so he ends up just resting against Steve's side. His head slumps against Steve's shoulder. He still expects Steve to shake him off or pull away but instead Steve rearranges their legs so that his left leg is resting over James' knees.

 

It's like they're in their own little bubble, entirely separate from the rest of the car. It's warm here and he can feel Steve's arm slip from the back of the seat to rest on his shoulders and he allows himself to be pulled closer. In that moment it was all worth it. Getting dressed up. Dumping disgusting amounts of alcohol into his body. Dodging advances from men old enough to be his father and women too drunk to hold themselves up. It was worth it because he's curled up in the back seat of a car, surrounded by good friends, and in the arms of a guy that looked like a cross between an MMA fighter and an underwear model who has the best laugh ever. Worth it.

 

He feels Steve's hand squeezing his shoulder. His fingers dig into James' tight muscles and force them to relax. In his state of mind he isn't even worried about Steve realizing that just below his shoulder, his flesh and blood arm ends and his new-age metal prosthetic arm begins. And suddenly, James is feeling gutsy. Because what is the chance he's going to see this guy ever again? What the fuck does he have to lose? So, carefully, he twists his right arm out from between them and lets it rest on Steve's thigh. He waits, giving Steve the time to tell him off or move his hand away. When he does neither, James keeps going. He starts to massage Steve's leg and he can't help but smirk when he feels Steve's breathing pick up.

 

He carefully slides his hand up Steve's leg, letting his fingers brush the inside of his thigh. Steve's other hand moves and he drags his fingers through James' hair. James moves with the motion and ends up catching Steve's gaze and _holy shit,_ Steve looks like he's going to eat him alive. James bites his lower lip and squeezes Steve's thigh.

 

Steve bows his head and whispers to him, "The back of an Übur doesn't seem like the right place for this." Steve's breath is hot against his skin and he thinks he might explode.

 

"Your place or mine?" Through his drunk haze, James is still astonished at his own confidence.

 

As if by command, the car slows to a stop and Dopinder puts it in park. Maria throws open the other door and climbs out followed closely by Natasha. A moment later there is a pull on his arm and he looks down to find Natasha trying to pry him from the backseat. "Nat-" he starts.

 

"Come on let's go," Natasha mutters and she yanks on his arm.

 

"But-"

 

"[Это плохая идея](https://translate.google.com/#auto/en/%D0%AD%D1%82%D0%BE%20%D0%BF%D0%BB%D0%BE%D1%85%D0%B0%D1%8F%20%D0%B8%D0%B4%D0%B5%D1%8F)," she hisses.

 

"[но ты сказала](https://translate.google.com/#auto/en/%D0%92%D1%8B%20%D1%82%D0%BE%D0%BB%D1%8C%D0%BA%D0%BE%20%D1%87%D1%82%D0%BE%20%D1%81%D0%BA%D0%B0%D0%B7%D0%B0%D0%BB%D0%B8%2C%20%D1%87%D1%82%D0%BE%20%D0%BE%D0%BD%20%D0%B1%D1%8B%D0%BB%20%D1%81%D0%B8%D0%BC%D0%BF%D0%B0%D1%82%D0%B8%D1%87%D0%B5%D0%BD)." The pleasant warmth in James' body is replaced with an angry fire.

 

"What's going on now?" Sam turns in his seat to look at the commotion.

 

"Alright, up you get." James feels betrayed by the sound of Steve's voice, because what the fuck they were just having a moment, weren't they?

 

James sits up and turns to look at him but he's having trouble reading Steve's expression. "Wh-"

 

"Your friends are trying to take care of you," Steve explains gently.

 

"Can you give us a hand?" Natasha asks, looking at Steve with pleading eyes. Steve gets out of the car and walks around the back to the open door. James lets himself be pulled from the Sedan this time. All at once, the world spins violently and his legs forget how to hold the rest of his body upright. He tips sideways and Steve quickly gets an arm around him. For the moment he's steadied. "Thanks!" Natasha says briskly.

 

"I'll help you get him up," Steve says and Natasha nods. The four of them stumble up the front steps and Natasha fumbles in her purse for her keys. James feels like absolute shit and just wants to pass out at this point. Natasha gets the front door open and they make their way inside. Natasha and Maria take the stairs up to the second floor like champs and James is left taking them one at a time with one hand on the railing and his other gripping onto Steve. "You're all right," Steve says quietly as the two slowly make their way up the stairs.

 

James laughs and it sounds hollow. "Sorry for this. Guess we're gonna do a raincheck."

 

"Yeah, raincheck." It sounds reassuring coming out of Steve's mouth but even in his state of mind, James knows this is the last he's going to see from this guy and it sucks.

 

* * *

 

The first thing James is aware of is the horrific pounding in his head. He makes the mistake of opening his eyes only to be immediately blinded by the sunlight filling the room. He squeezes them shut and groans.

 

"Morning, [Тигренок](https://translate.google.com/#ru/en/%D0%A2%D0%B8%D0%B3%D1%80%D0%B5%D0%BD%D0%BE%D0%BA)." Natasha's voice is coated in smugness and James **hates** it. Not to mention  _how_ is she even remotely awake and okay right now? How is it that Natasha  _never_ gets a freakin' hangover?

 

"[отвяжись](https://translate.google.com/#ru/en/%D0%BE%D1%82%D0%B2%D1%8F%D0%B6%D0%B8%D1%81%D1%8C)," James replies, opening his eyes to squint at her.

 

"Still mad?" Reality slowly starts to make sense. Natasha is standing at the kitchenette with a mug in her hands. From his angle he realizes he passed out on the couch last night. She leans against the island that marks he border between living room and kitchen to smirk at him. Her red hair is pulled into a bun and she's still wearing last night's makeup. "You should be thanking me."

 

"Why?" James' heart suddenly picks up the pace and he feels uncharacteristically light. "Did you get his number?"

 

Natasha looks at him with a mixture of surprise and disappointment painted on her face. "You didn't get his number?" Her raised voice causes James' head to pound and he squeezes his eyes shut and rolls over onto his back.

 

"Jesus Christ," he mutters. "So why am I thanking you again?"

 

"I was going to say I saved you from the embarrassment of a sloppy, too-drunk-to-function hookup and that now you and Steve can have a normal sober-enough-to-have-fun hookup but I guess you're going to have to settle for no hookup."

 

"Why are we yelling?" James halfway opens his eyes and turns his head to see Maria make her way from Nat's room to the kitchen. She's wearing wearing one of Nat's shirts, a pair of drawstring PJ pants, and a pair of sunglasses.

 

"James didn't get Steve's number last night," Natasha explains.

 

Maria groans and takes a seat at one of the barstools at the kitchen's island. She crosses her arms on the counter and buries her head in them. "I never want to drink again," she mumbles into the countertop.

 

* * *

 

They end up going out that night because one of Natasha's gal pals is having a birthday celebration. Natasha assures both Maria and James that their presence is not required but Maria insists that she's fine. She makes a pact to stick to the crappy, watered down mixed drinks. James says he has nothing better to do. The reality is he's hoping that somehow, some way he'll run into Steve again. _God, that's creepy_. He decides to chalk it up to unresolved sexual tension from the night before.

 

So, he goes through the task of picking something to wear. There's always a jacket involved. He can't stand the stares. Whether its because of his prosthetic or his scarred flesh-and-blood arm. He hates it. He hates the ghosts of old wounds that haunt his body. He hates the places where they plucked shrapnel from his flesh and he hates that his body couldn't put the pieces back together right. They took parts from one place- muscle and bone- and slapped them in other places and it made him feel like Frankenstein's Goddamn monster sometimes. After a quick round of shots (that Maria politely declined) they pile into an Übur and start their night out.

 

James has fun. He hates to admit it, but Natasha's friends are all really nice and they know how to have a good time. He wishes the woman of the hour - Sharon - a happy birthday and she beams at him and offers to pay for his next drink. After explaining how backward that line of thinking is, he buys her one of these colorful drinks that comes in huge container. This one reminds him of a fish bowl. He expects her to share with someone, but he'll find out later that she ended up drinking the whole thing herself.

 

All in all James ends up getting more drunk than he had intended, something that is probably problematic but can be unpacked later. Maria, Nat, and James end up stumbling out of the bar at 2AM and sliding into the back of another Übur. This time, the driver doesn't stop for other fares and ends up dropping them all off in front of their building. "I'm hungry," James mumbles. "I'm gonna hit the corner store." He makes his way in the direction of the nearest twenty-four hour convenience store and realizes Natasha and Maria are following him.

 

"Not by yourself at two in the morning you're not," Maria says. She's the sober one this time and she carefully leads Natasha (who continues to gracefully hold her liquor) and James down the cracked pavement. Soon the neon lights of the convenience store are in front of them, drawing them in like a couple of moths to a lamp.

 

James ends up in the chip isle, eyeing up the colorful bags without really registering anything. Suddenly, Natasha is at his side. "I don't want to alarm you, but I'm pretty sure hot Steve from last night is here."

 

"Yeah fucking right," James mumbles, reaching out for a random bag of chips. "Also, when did we start calling him 'hot Steve'? I don't know any other Steves."

 

Natasha pulls him to the end of the isle by his elbow and nods in the direction of the soda machine and sure enough, there's a six foot whatever, blond, male-Goddamn-model filling up a plastic to-go cup with cola. "Christ," he hisses and ducks back into the isle. "I mean, are you sure? Like are you sure-sure." Natasha unclips her purse and fishes around inside for a moment and produces her phone. She quickly pulls up a picture and shoves the screen in James' face. He squints at the image of the group of them posing in the cramped car. It's dark and just a little bit blurry, but sure enough, there's Steve looking even better than he remembers. "Shit."

 

"Go do your thing," Natasha says. "Remember the way home?"

 

"You know what, I might get him to take me to his place. Where I won't be cock blocked."

 

Natasha rolls her eyes. "Look, I promise to stay out of your way. Okay? Please do not drag yourself over to a stranger's house."

 

"Okay, [матушка](https://translate.google.com/#ru/en/%D0%BC%D0%B0%D1%82%D1%83%D1%88%D0%BA%D0%B0)," he grumbles before taking a deep breath and dipping out of the isle. He puts on his best shocked expression before saying "Steve?"

 

Steve is putting a lid on his soda when he looks up and smiles and Jesus Christ his whole face is lit up and James _hates_ it. He hates it because Steve is beaming. At him. Why would he do that? "What are you doing here?" And then Steve's abandoning his soda on the counter and making his way over to wrap James in a hug. It's warm and tight and he smells good and James can barely breathe.

 

"I live a couple blocks away," James explains, most of his words are absorbed into Steve's chest. "I got the munchies. What are you doing here?"

 

Steve pulls back and James wants to grip onto him but he lets the hug dissolve. "I live a couple blocks away, too." He laughs and James wonders how the hell they managed to not meet before this. Steve gestures off in the direction opposite of James' apartment and _okay, yeah that makes sense_. "Have you been drinking?"

 

"What?" James scoffs and he looks up to see that Steve looks concerned and he shrugs. "A little." He barely registers that Steve is probably sober- if not mostly sober- right now and that sober Steve just hugged him and he feels a weird sense of pride in that.

 

"Walking around, drunk, at two AM isn't really a good idea." James really wishes Steve would drop the worried-about-you crap but then he realizes that this is an opportunity and he tries to be suave.

 

"Yeah. You're right. Walk me home?"

 

* * *

 

The walk home is casual enough. They end up talking. It turns out Steve's a veteran too and he ended up meeting Sam in the service. He's a Brooklyn native but he's a sucker for deep dish pizza (don't tell). James laughs because he's also from Brooklyn and Steve had better square up because that Chicago shit can't even touch a good New York pie. He says he used to be scrawny and that he used to have pretty bad asthma attacks. James tries to picture it but he can't. Steve talks about how he likes art…sketching and stuff and James offhandedly mentions that he'd like to see his work sometime. Steve, to his surprise, agrees.

 

The natural conversation slows and James ends up panicking and talking about how he thinks aliens are real and to his relief Steve passionately agrees. "There are _so_  many stars out there," Steve says as he gestures toward the night sky. "I mean, even if we can't see any of them because of light pollution. They're still out there! That means there's so many other planets and so many different environments that can support life! I don't get people who say aliens are fake."

 

James mentions that he thinks the moon landing was fake, and Steve turns to him with a scandalized expression. "How can you say that after saying aliens are real?"

 

"Because, listen. The evidence? It's undeniable. For example, why haven't we gone to the moon again?" James challenges him

 

"Because we already did it once!" Steve laughs. That fucking laugh again. "Why would we do it again?"

 

"You know what let's agree to disagree," he says with a chuckle.

 

"Fair enough." And James realizes that he's been so concerned with saying something stupid that he hasn't realized how close they are. They're brushing up against each other and part of him feels like a silly kid with a crush for realizing.

 

All too soon they're standing on his stoop and saying goodbye and as Steve turns to leave James blurts out "What? No goodnight kiss?"

 

* * *

 

He ends up pressed against the doorframe with Steve's tongue in his mouth and his hands sliding under Steve's shirt. Steve's _entire_ body is pinning him in place. Steve cups James' jaw in one of his hands and uses the other to grip James' hip. James makes an embarrassing noise into Steve's mouth and Steve's grip on his hip tightens in response.

 

Steve pulls back and James grins up at him. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that."

 

Steve laughs quietly, "I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say a whole day."

 

"What can I say, patience isn't my strong suit."

 

Steve's thumb strokes a soft line over James' cheek. "Should we take this inside?"

 

* * *

 

"James!"

 

_Undressing Steve was the fun part. Undressing himself was the shitty part. Steve sensed his hesitation. "Is this okay?" he asked. "We can stop-"_

 

_"No." James' voice was resolute._

 

_Steve undressed him like he was opening a present. He planted careful kisses to each new inch of exposed skin and by the time he was done James' entire body was on fire. James reached up with his right hand to run his palm up Steve's side. Without saying anything, Steve took James' metal left hand in his and planted it on his side. James took the hint and was really relieved at how calm Steve was about it. He began using both his hands to map out Steve's body_

 

"James, are you home?"

 

_"Steve," he breathed. Both of his hands were gripping at the bed sheets. Steve's lips were wrapped tight around his cock and James was trying his best not to thrust into his mouth. It was a courtesy thing. "Steve," he said more urgently. Steve hummed in reply and James' back arched off the mattress._

 

As James slowly returns to the waking world, he feels a radiating heat at his back. As he becomes more aware he realizes that, shit it's Steve. He can feel Steve's chest move as he breathes and his breath tickles the back of James' neck. He's so content right now-

 

"James!" He recognizes Natasha's yelling voice but he has no desire to get up. He wants to keep lying here and re-living the night before.

 

_"Can you do something for me?" Steve asked. His hair was a mess, his cheeks were flushed, and his lips were just a little bit swollen._

 

_"Anything," James replied immediately. All of a sudden Steve got really shy and James started to consider just how far he'd go when Steve spoke again._

 

_His voice was quiet and he was looking down instead of looking James in the eye. "Could you…talk to me?"_

 

_James almost breathed a sigh of relief. He leaned in, his hand ghosting over the skin just below Steve's navel and murmured, "I've been fuckin' dreaming about this. Wondering what you'd feel like writhing under my hands. Hearing you-"_

 

_"In Russian," Steve's voice was strained and breathy. He looked up to meet James' gaze. "Please."_

 

"[почему сразу не сказал](https://translate.google.com/#ru/en/%D0%BF%D0%BE%D1%87%D0%B5%D0%BC%D1%83%20%D0%B2%D1%8B%20%D0%BD%D0%B5%20%D1%81%D0%BA%D0%B0%D0%B7%D0%B0%D0%BB%D0%B8)?" _James replied._

 

"James Barnes!" _Jesus she's outside in the kitchen, why is she yelling like she's trying to communicate with him from across a football field?_

 

"Hmm?" Steve sleepily hums next to him and James is about ready to fight Nat for waking him up. A fight he'd probably lose. "What's that?"

 

"That would be a very good example of a mom friend," James replies and Steve chuckles.

 

"Is that my cue to leave?" Steve asks, his morning voice is low and rough.

 

"I wouldn't know I'm not much of a one-night stand kind of guy."

 

"Then I guess this isn't going to be a one-time thing."

 

"James Buchanan Barnes! I swear to God!" James' groans at Nat's use of his middle name and squeezes his eyes closed. In fact he regrets ever telling her what it was. Actually, he doesn't remember ever mentioning it to her. How does she know everything?

 

"Buchanan?" James can hear the smile in Steve's voice.

 

"I'm alive, Nat! Leave me alone!" James yells loud enough for Nat to hear.

 

"Thanks! I worry!"

 

"Is that your middle name? Buchanan?"

 

James rolls over onto his back and glares at Steve. "No?"

 

"Wow."

 

* * *

 

A few days later he, Nat, and Maria are curled up on the couch binge-watching Netflix. "Who're ya texting?" Nat teases.

 

"I'll give you three guesses," Bucky replies.

 

"Well, Maria and I are right here, so that eliminates us."

 

"Actually, you're wrong," Maria interjected. "It's me."

 

The three of them laugh. "Who the hell is Bucky?" Nat asks and Bucky doesn't reply. He merely angles his body so Nat will _stop_ snooping on his texts. "Oh my God. Does he mean you? Do you have a _nickname_?" She sounds so Goddamn gleeful.

 

Maria awws from Natasha's other side. "Why don't I have a nickname?" she asks, looking up at Nat with a faux hurt expression on her face.

 

"I'm so sorry my little Hill-billy," Nat replies.

 

"Never mind." Maria goes back to watching Netflix.

 

Nat turns to face him, "[пожалуйста](https://translate.google.com/#ru/en/%D0%BF%D0%BE%D0%B6%D0%B0%D0%BB%D1%83%D0%B9%D1%81%D1%82%D0%B0)."

 

He should say something snarky back to her, but he doesn't. He just smiles and shakes his head at her.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Любимая - Darling  
> хуйня - Garbage (Bullshit)  
> он милый - He's cute  
> Заткнись - shut up  
> Это плохая идея - It is a bad idea  
> но ты сказала - You just said he was cute  
> Тигренок - Tiger (but like baby tiger)  
> отвяжись - Fuck off  
> почему сразу не сказал - Why didn't you say so  
> пожалуйста - You're welcome
> 
> I got the idea for this story because it sort of happened to me? Minus the hooking up, back seat cuddling, and sexual tension. So basically I just met some dudes in a ride sharing situation and then ran into them again at a convenience store literally the day after. So yeah, fiction is definitely more glamorous and you should never trust media that is 'based on a true story'
> 
> Also I am sorry I could not go 1 fanfiction without hyping up my favorite angel without wings Sam Wilson.


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